


Ashes to ashes; I commit my spirit into your arms

by sensiblebee



Category: City!verse - Fandom, Paris Burning (thecitysmith)
Genre: F/M, I just love Italy so much ok, Lots of tears ahead, Pompeii made me cry so much, thecitysmith's work is absolutely gorgeous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sensiblebee/pseuds/sensiblebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Because you knew how it would end, didn't you? Yet you chose to let your heart run free.</i>
</p>
<p>Pompeii fell in love with a human once, a long time ago. She knew it wouldn't last. Humans are such fragile little things. But if it's all destined to end, she though, she might as well enjoy the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ashes to ashes; I commit my spirit into your arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecitysmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecitysmith/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Paris Burning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/825130) by [thecitysmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecitysmith/pseuds/thecitysmith). 



> Well, what can I say? I'm Italian. Italians love their country with ever fiber of their being, even though they will tell you the opposite. And they also love Love itself. When it ends tragically, they adore it even more.
> 
> Two weeks ago I watched Les Mis for the first time and found myself crying like a baby at the end of the film. Then, I stumbled upon thecitysmith's outrageously beautiful "Paris Burning" just to find myself completely hooked by the City 'Verse that she had created. Amongst those painfully wonderful words of hers, there was the story of magical Pompeii, who threw herself into Mount Vesuvius after her human lover's death. Eventually, _this_ happened.
> 
> This is my first English work ever. I apologise for any mistake I might have made and I hope you will enjoy this little thingie I wrote. Just be aware that it doesn't have an happy ending.

_What a life they had had._  

Pompeii watched as merciless flames hungrily devoured her lover’s body. 

She was drowned in red and orange, the setting sun reflecting its dying light on the sea. Her eyes were shining with tears, her throat a painful knot that she couldn’t swallow down. Smoke filled her aching lungs, and her heart, _oh, her heart —_ poor, little, broken, wretched thing. It twisted and ripped itself apart just to squeeze itself together again in a vicious cycle, ripping Pompeii’s chest open with violent hands.  

Yet there she stood, unmoving, bare feet buried under the warm sand. She was alone on the beach, the single mourner at that private funeral. No one to sing the freed soul to endless sleep. She couldn’t make a sound.  

Young waves carried the burning boat away, hiding it where the horizon caressed the water in such a gentle way. At last, the sun died along with the flames, leaving a weeping woman under the starry August sky. Warm wind kissed her tanned skin. 

The calm before the storm. 

One more beautiful scenery as nature’s last gift.

 

***

 

_How did it all begin, can you even remember?_  

_He was so young. A charming sailor who always laughed._  

_Was it at the market that you first saw him? Or was it at Lady Lucretia’s house, sneaking from the kitchens where he had just delivered some fish?_  

_He would always take you fishing with him. You loved seeing the defined muscles that would tense under his dark sunburnt skin, crusted with salt. His eyes would squint in the brightness of the daylight and he would tell you_ I love you _. Just like that, in a carefree moment of young euphoria._  

_You were both so young, and wild, and free. Love filled your veins and ruled over your bodies; your sailor’s devotion making you lazy on mornings under the light sheets of an unmade bed, driving you crazy with worshipping words, tangling your hair in reckless emotion._  

_You were his muse, he would say. And you would kiss him on those rough lips of his, closing your eyes to collect the moment, to keep it safe from the dust of time._  

_Because you knew how it would end, didn’t you? Yet you chose to let your heart run free._  

_What a life you've had, sweet Pompeii._

 

***

 

_How did it end, do you even remember?_  

_He died of old age. What a beautiful way to leave this world. Peacefully closing your eyes in the night never to open them again, slipping into afterlife in your sleep._  

_So calm, so peaceful, so quiet._  

_No suffering, no tears, just one last handsome smile._  

_Such a human way of dying. Humble, ordinary, expected. Wasn’t it what you dreamed for him, Pompeii?_  

_He even managed to tell you_ how beautiful you are, my love _one last time. Maybe it was exactly that what broke your heart. Maybe it was simply the weight of all the years you would have to live without him that torn your soul apart. Do Cities even have souls?_  

_You did._

 

***

 

There was a woman standing on the edge of the dormant hollow mountain. Her large breasts were bare, fine white fabric hanging loosely from one of her shoulders. Her dark eyes stared into the void beneath her feet, a strong, firm gaze, like that of someone who has already decided his destiny and will never change his mind. 

Her breathtaking beauty was rough: she looked like a fallen goddess; the soft curves of her body shaded by the unnatural light that filled the world that day. Her bold brows were uneven, some stray hair in between them; long lashes contoured her big eyes. Her curly dark hair fell down to her waist, untamed. She wore gold bracelets which shined on her olive skin. Sweat glistened on her wide forehead. 

Pompeii closed her eyes and threw back her head, inhaling deeply the scent of the Mediterraneum. Painful memories flew to her mind, those of a laughing sailor and sunny days spent at the beach. 

_What a life they had had._  

It shouldn’t be that difficult, she thought. One small jump, one more plunge (into the darkness, into the nothingness), just like the plunges she had taken with him at the gymnasium. 

Water so clear she could see his legs. 

_“Come on, jump! What are you waiting for? Jump, my love, come swimming with me!”_  

_And she had jumped._  

_Elegant hands joined above her head, long arms resting to its sides. Her rounded stomach sucked in, legs pressed together, toes uncurling once of twice. One, deep breath and in the water she was, in his arms, in his warm embrace. (_ Inside the volcano, inside its burning mouth _)._  

_“I love you,” she had said. (_ Oh, how much I love you, my laughing sailor, you don’t even know _.)_  

Down in the city people were enjoying that gloomy afternoon. Children were running around in courtyards, philosophers were giving their passionate speeches, gods were being worshipped in the temples. 

No one expected the sudden roar that came from afar. A terrifying, guttural sound, as if coming from the viscera of a desperate dying creature. 

Some thought they heard the broken cry of a woman amongst the deafening sounds that filled the air, that afternoon. However, no one will ever really know, for no one escaped Pompeii’s grief. 

She buried them all under Mount Vesuvius’s ashes. How selfish she was, to capture them all in an eternal stillness. Children still playing, students still writing, poets still singing, lovers still loving. Bright lives trapped forever in their everyday existence. 

Pompeii’s mourning lasted two days. 

Up over a hill, shut into a darkened room, Rome shouted. 

_What a life they had had._

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at http://renegadean.tumblr.com ♥ I hope you enjoyed and if you'd like, please leave a comment below! It would mean the world to me.
> 
> Have a wonderful life! ♥


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